Thursday, August 17, 2006
The arrest of Captain Underpants
I started telling my bride about some mindless situation at work, sitting on the couch around 2am this morning, and the Ambien got the best of her; she interrupted me to say, "We had to deal with a malodorous black man jacking off in the magazine section [of the library she works in]... Nothing in your day can beat that." I have to admit, she was correct. That simply doesn't compare to seeing why the previous tech didn't leave notes on what he told the customer to do, which was because the mail program the tech told the guy to download and spent the next hour on the phone with while it was coming in slooowly was incompatable with the man's office mail system. The gentleman, however, did not have to ask me to transfer him to "a more experienced technician" when I explained this fact and read the details of what mail programs do what from the PDA manufacturer's website to show what he downloaded ain't gonna work for his purposes. Obliging his request, I transferred him to Mr. Dialtone in our Whiny Customer Queue.
Our dear aunt in Arizona had her phone number changed so her daughter, a 40-year-old crack whore in Seattle, couldn't call her for money several times a day. As a concession, she gave her daughter our phone number to call in case of emergency. Running out of cigarettes is an emergency to her. Grrr. That's the biggest stupidity of the week.
We have the final batch of tiles and some tasty grey grout with matching adhesive, and we should be getting the tile saw from a coworker today. We will be attending a seminar on Saturday afternoon at
Your wifey's stupidity story DOES indeed top yours, although the "need for cigarettes" thing runs a very close second.
I fear you may be receiving tons more calls.
My mom's sister is a terrible drunk. When she calls, my mom often ignores the call because she knows if she picks up, she will spend the next two hours on the phone listening to mindless drunken blather.
It is very sad.
I wonder if you can sniff grout like you can sniff glue? If you can, and you do sniff it, then maybe you'll end up with a really unusual tile pattern.
Bonus fun: It turns out that the library staff has never known that particular (malodorous black wanker) patron's name, he doesn't have a card yet he's a frequent visitor. They always referred to him as Captain Underpants -- I beg your forgiveness, Dav Pilkey -- because he is one of those people who believes their pants should be at least six inches below their boxers, and story has it that when those pants would get wet he'd lounge around the library without them.
Amazing and sordid things happen in libraries. Being open to the public, with rules on the staff against getting in people's way unless they're a threat to others, leads to really odd or annoying situations.